“Rose?” His brows snapped together in confusion as he paused with one foot through the doorway. “What are you doing here?”
I lifted my hand halfway up in a weak wave and then dropped it.
Cynthia appeared behind him, a little breathless. “I’ve been trying to catch up with you to tell you Rose was waiting for you. Do you want me to call George and push back that meeting?”
“Oh, no. Please don’t,” I cut in, standing up before he could answer her. “I just dropped by. I don’t want to mess up his schedule. I’ll leave.” I bent down and collected my bag from the floor. Keeping my eyes down and feeling like I was about to break down at any second now that Jack was actually standing in front of me, I tried to walk past him, but he used his body to block me and gently gripped my wrist before I could do anything else.
Jack turned his head toward Cynthia but kept his searching gaze on me. “Give us a few minutes before you do that, okay?”
“Of course.”
My eyes met Cynthia’s and she gave me a small smile right before Jack shuffled me inside and she closed the door on us.
“What’s wrong?” Jack asked as soon as it was just the two of us in the spacious office.
I pulled my hand away from his warm, gentle grip, massaging my wrist. Any kind of touching would just cause me to break down faster.
“Nothing. I just dropped by. I should leave.” I checked my watch and then set my gaze on his shoulder instead of his eyes. “It’s pretty late. Owen is covering for me with Sally, but I think I should head back so he can take off. So, I’m just gonna leave.”
Despite my repetitive words, I couldn’t make a move to leave, and Jack wasn’t getting out of my way anyway. A few seconds later, I felt two of his fingers gently tilt my chin up and remain there.
We looked at each other for a few heartbeats. I really was affected by the dream I’d had the night before. It still felt like there was something real between us, and it was quite possibly the worst time to feel the leftover effects of being in love with him—or, more accurately, the effects of him being in love with me.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Rose,” he said simply, his voice soft and worried. “Have you been crying?”
I winced a little then bit on the inside of my cheek as he waited patiently. “Just a little, but it’s nothing big. I just went to the doctor and—” My voice started breaking so I stopped.
“When? Why?” He let my chin go.
“Now. I mean I’m coming from the doctor’s office. I had an appointment. I wanted to get a spray or something for the allergies.” I touched my nose and his gaze followed. “For my nose. Obviously.” I smiled, but I didn’t think it reached my eyes.
“For the cold, right?”
Lately, I was always walking around with a Kleenex in my hand or had some nearby, just in case it started up when I wasn’t expecting it.
“Yes, the one-day sore throat and the…um, runny nose and the headaches. Anyway, it doesn’t feel like a normal cold. I feel completely fine if you don’t count the headaches and the nose issues, which is why I thought suddenly I’d become allergic to something. It’s like water dripping from my nose.” I let out a small groan and looked away. “Talking about my nose is not what I want to do with you at all.”
He ignored my discomfort. “I never saw you have any problems like that other than a few times.”
“That’s because it’s not dripping 24/7. Sometimes it’s okay if I’m standing up, but when I sit down, it starts dripping. Lying on my back is obviously fine, and so is keeping my head tilted back, but sometimes when I sleep on my face, I wake up in the middle of the night because I can feel something trailing down and… You get the point. Also, when it starts up when I’m working or like when we were at the charity event, I have to push a cotton ball or some tissue paper up there, something so I don’t have to hold a tissue under my nose like this all the time.” I lamented my words when I had to hold the Kleenex up to my face again. “In any case, whatever I do, it gets drenched too quickly anyway.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all of this before, Rose? Why did you wait?”
“I was working, and I thought it would go away on its own. Plus, I don’t like doctors. Sometimes it starts up and doesn’t stop for hours. Sometimes it disappears after half an hour or so. I try my best not to tilt my head down, because that triggers it too. Thankfully in the mornings it’s slow, for some reason, so it hasn’t been a big issue when I’m baking, but I never know when it’s going to happen. Speaking of…”
I felt it coming down again, and the Kleenex in my hand was done already. Holding on to the chair, I slowly got down to my knees, my eyes looking up at the ceiling. Blindly, I tried to reach for my bag, but suddenly Jack was on his knees too, reaching for my hands. I felt my eyes blur a little.
“Can you get me a tissue, please?” I asked, keeping my chin up and away from his gaze.
He let go of me and got up to leave.
“Wait, I have some in my—”
He walked out of his office before I could tell him I had some more in my bag. I stood up. He came back with a pretty box of Kleenex and held it out for me. I pulled one out and, sniffling, held it under my nose.
“Are you okay?” he asked again, looking straight into my eyes. I nodded and tilted my head back a little more to stop the flow a bit. Sometimes that helped. Now that I’d learned what it could be, the feeling of that warm trickle was freaking me out more than it had only hours earlier.
Jack massaged his temple, walked a few steps away, and then came back to stand in front of me. “Okay. Okay, tell me what the doctor said. I’m assuming it’s not allergies from the look on your face.”
“Nope. Turns out it’s probably not allergies or a cold. He wants to run some tests, wants to get a CT scan and an MRI, but he thinks I might have cerebrospinal fluid leak, especially because it’s only coming from one side of my nose.” I twisted my lips and tried my best to hold back my tears. His eyes studied my face, and the longer I looked into his gaze, the more his image started to blur.
“Don’t do that,” he ordered, his face unreadable.
I nodded. Given the kind of guy he was, I didn’t think dealing with a crying female would be his favorite thing to do, but even hearing his gravelly voice was breaking the tight hold I’d had on myself ever since I left the doctor’s office.
I’d put my bag on the chair as I was standing up, so I grabbed it and hitched it higher on my shoulder then nodded to myself. Tightening my fingers around the Kleenex in my grasp, I dropped my hand down. “I should leave, really. I should’ve gone straight back to work in the first place. I just thought I’d drop by and tell you I might not be able to join you—” When the first tear slowly slid down my cheek, I angrily swiped at it with the back of my hand. “I might not be able to join you at events for a while. I think they need to do surgery so I’m not sure if I’m gonna…”
He looked at me for a long time as the tears I had promised myself I wouldn’t shed started to come more rapidly after the word surgery. Then I felt the now familiar feeling that something was running down my nose, so I quickly tilted my head back. The last thing—the very last thing I wanted was for him to actually see something coming down my nose. I felt like I couldn’t come back from that.